Meet Miss November: The Apron

Here's the newest apron available in my etsy shop, which is from my Women of the Year line. Each month brings a new color combination along with a hand-embroidered award ribbon brooch. This month, of course, is Miss November! The design is handmade in chocolate and white broadcloth, accented with a gold silk ribbon sash. Each apron also comes with a surprise vintage cocktail recipe.

Cute Halloween Craft: Hanging Ghosts

Spotted in Country Living magazine. These sweet-not-spooky ghosts strike just the right note for a grown-up Halloween party...like the one I'm having this weekend. Directions, which are easier than you think (it's just like grade school papier-mache crafts), are here.

Image via Country Living.

P.s. Regarding my Halloween party: This weekend I picked up a bottle of a garishly-colored Pumpkin Spice Liqueur, because I got sucked into a sale. Unfortunately, the bright orange color should have been my tip-off: It's really boozy corn syrup with the tiniest hint of spice flavor. I have no idea how to rescue it, except by throwing it down the garbage chute (but if I figure out another way, I'll let you know). Lesson: Don't cheap out on liqueurs. The end.

Now on sale: The Wonder Woman Apron

Introducing the first piece in my glamorous apron collection, a Wonder Woman-inspired apron design that's perfect for Halloween or anytime you need to feel a bit more super. Made to order. It's $26 in my Etsy shop.

Summer Cocktail Series: The Mango Monster

Today I've learned that no matter how charming a pre-war (as in pre-WWI) apartment is, you really shouldn't rent an apartment without air conditioning. All the high ceilings, marble fireplace mantels and 6" windows in the world do not make up for the miseries of June. With 3 large fans going, it still might be in the mid-80's in the apartment.

So I did what any other gal in this situation would do: Make a cocktail.

I had a near over-ripe mango languishing in the refrigerator, awaiting some sort of use. So why not puree and spike it with a spirit of some sort?

This had its pros and cons. Pro: Mangoes are easy to puree into deliciousness. They can pair with any type of common bar spirit (except maybe gin, I'd guess). Con: If you puree it without straining afterwards, you end up with disgusting little mango "hairs" in your cocktail glass. And if you don't dilute the puree with something else, you'll feel like you're eating boozy baby food. Water works fine, but I used lemonade to cut the sweet mango. But really, you need to strain it. Mango hairs=disgusting.

The Mango Monster
Serves 2, but who are we kidding?
1 very ripe mango
2 oz+ rum (light or dark, depending on preference)
splash triple sec (optional)
splash lemonade or water, to get the texture right

Cut up mango (taking the skin off of course), puree the dickens out of it. Add rum, optional triple sec and lemonade, puree some more. If it's too thick, add more lemonade. Strain through a sieve, pushing around the pulp with a spoon to get things flowing, into martini glass. Enjoy as you read a 1962 printing of Sex and the Single Girl--after all, Helen Gurley Brown didn't have air conditioning either.

First apron design...

Ta-da! Here's a test run of a summer apron design, with a v-neck bodice and circle skirt, trimmed with hand-made bias tape and rosette. Perfect for cocktails, as you can see. More pics to come!

How to make cocktails: The Magnolia Blossom

I spend more time than I should on the Archive.org website. It's about the closest thing you can get online, and increasingly in real life, to the secondhand bookstore experience--you really have no idea what you'll find. Like LEGO movies. A children's book from 1866. Or a cookbook for men, by men, written in 1922.

My favorite is The 20th Century Guide for Mixing Fancy Drinks, written in 1900. Devoid of any trends, slick photography or uppity know-it-all descriptions, you're forced to imagine what wonders the author is making. Would Milk Seltzer be good? Well, no. At least I assume it wouldn't be, because it's made from combining milk and seltzer. Thus, Milk Seltzer.

Things, my friends, were just different then. Ladies wore bustles, men were working for Ebenezer Scrooge and people ordered Milk Seltzer at bars.

But I did get distracted by something called a Magnolia Blossom. It's a combination of port wine (stay with me, I know, port wine isn't thought of as a cocktail ingredient, but don't worry because I'm not leading you into Wine Cooler territory), orange liqueur, lemon juice, superfine sugar, a little bit of soda water...and an egg white.

Yes! An egg white. Back in the olden days, eggs in cocktails was about as common as ladies not being allowed to vote. And just when the ladies were allowed to vote, the egg cocktail fell out of fashion. I'm not saying there is a connection....

It does sound creepy, putting egg whites in cocktails. And it is. An egg white is supposed to froth up the drink and add a velvety texture. But if you don't mix it right, or use a new-ish egg, you'll end up with a residue at the bottom of your glass that's closer in texture to something that would end up in a Kleenex.

Instead, I left it out. What I got was a cocktail that tastes like a pomegranate. The orange liqueur brings out the sweetness of the port, which is tempered by the lemon juice. The sugar, I think, it unnecessary. And the soda water should be poured lightly.

The Magnolia Blossom

(adapted from The 20th Century Guide for Mixing Fancy Drinks)

1 1/2 ounces port wine (I use The Portly Gentleman, an Australian port)

1/2 ounce orange liqueur (like Triple Sec or Orange Curacao, not worth being fancy here)

2 tsp. lemon juice

Soda water to taste

Shake all ingredients (except soda water) until shaker frosts over. Pour into glass, top with soda water. Optional: The original recipe calls for fresh grated nutmeg on top, which I tried. It looks terrible, but the spicy kick is pretty good.

New Cocktail: Rose Meets Blanche

Yesterday I picked up not one, but two bizarre ingredients from the grocery store: Rose Water and Orange Flower Water. Why I capitalized those names, I have no idea. It's not like I capitalize Lettuce. Wait, I just did...



Anyway, I can't explain what I was thinking when I blindly shoved the bottles into my shopping basket. It seemed like a life-enhancing thing to buy. Roses, orange blossoms--those are lovely things. It'll be like a garden in my drafty studio! Won't I be fancy?!



As I got home, I thought of all the things I could add it to. Cakes, sorbets, and other things I never ever make. Mostly, I thought I could add a dash of it to an Old-Fashioned or my evening Martini. (again with the capitalization...)



When I opened the bottles, only one thing crossed my mind: Orange water and rose water smell like fairy pee.



I was bothered by the wasteful purchase, until I came up with this cocktail. It's kind of like a margarita, without the Spring Break connotations.



I named it after the two remaining Golden Girls. In it, the rose water cues in on the delicate daintiness of Rose (GET IT?!) while the tequila gives it a decidedly worldly Blanche flair.



Rose Meets Blanche

In a cocktail shaker, combine...

1 1/2 oz. Rosangel Hibiscus-infused tequila (don't look at me like that, it's a tequila that doesn't taste of pennies and that's worth it to me)

3 drops rose water

3 oz grapefruit juice (as the case for the other day, I have lots of grapefruits to use up)

1 tsp. black currant or raspberry syrup

dash lime juice

Shake until frosty, then strain into the fanciest glass you have. For me, it was one that looked like a tulip. A purple one.

Grapefruit Brulee Cocktail

My North-facing apartment doesn't get too much light. It faces the across-the-street row of brownstones, which is fine for spying on neighbors (not that I'd, ahem, ever do that), but the lack of direct light makes me feel as if I live in a casino. A casino with no jackpot, no disco music, no buffet or sequined outfits. (Can you tell I've never been to a casino?)

Anyway. What I'm trying to say that the indirect light makes things kind of gloomy. And that's when I have a grapefruit. Or, more likely, this grapefruit-based cocktail. It's bright, light and altogether summer-y. It has plenty of Vitamin C, and plenty of rum. Which is handy for fighting both scurvy AND gloominess.

This particular cocktail takes its cues from bruleed grapefruit, which is indeed an actual thing. You see, you're supposed to take a fresh grapefruit (as opposed to an old one), halve it, dip it in brown sugar and pass it under your broiler.

Which would be delicious, if I wasn't terrified of using my broiler.

So we'll go with the next best thing, which is convenient but fancy enough to impress others.

Grapefruit Brulee Cocktail
(serves 1)
1/2 cup fresh squeezed grapefruit juice (or bottled, I won't tell)
1 to 1 1/2 oz dark rum, depending on your day
1/2 oz brown sugar syrup
dash bitters (optional)

*To make the brown sugar syrup, boil equal parts brown sugar and water together until appropriate syrup-y.

Squeeze 1 large grapefruit over a measuring cup topped with a sieve. Pour the filtered juice into a martini shaker filled with ice, then the rum and syrup. Shake until the shaker is frosty; strain into a glass.

Raise a toast to Old Abe

If Mr. Lincoln were alive to enjoy this cocktail, he'd most certainly hide it under his hat, so he could enjoy it during his Freedom-Preserving activities. Although, he'd probably have to also hide a microwave or a small induction burner under the hat, too--since this is a concoction best served steaming hot. I've decided to call it a Stovepipe, after old Abe's magical hat.

Here's what you'll need...

From left to right: A small Lincoln statuette (for ambiance), apple cider, a bag of chai-type tea (I use Yogi Tea's Soothing Indian Spice, bought when I had an identity crisisat the grocery store and mistook myself for one of those relaxed yoga ladies) and spiced rum. I prefer Trader Vic's, because I found its label charming. But also, it doesn't have that odd Old Coughdrop taste that many spiced rums have.

For one serving, pour a mug's worth of cider into a saucepan. Toss in a tea bag, let simmer over medium heat for about 5 mins. Once hot, turn the heat off. Add a healthy glug of rum, cover and steep for another 5 mins. Pour into a mug and savor your liberty and various freedoms.